I’d done what he said. I went out and found the Dragons, in turn finding the vampires, and then this happened. How in the hell was this supposed to help my problems. I was worried about hurting innocent people and the one person who got caught in the crossfire was the person I cared about most in this world.
Maybe the Warrior Angel was wrong about me. I was not a warrior in my own right. I was a loser who couldn’t save his own girlfriend from becoming a vampire.
Loser.
“You still with me, Zander.” Chloe’s voice brought me back from my thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
She smiled gently and took my hand in hers. “No you’re not even close to being fine … but you will be.”
TO BE CONTINUED IN
THE ARCADIA FALLS CHRONICLES 7
~READ AN UNEDITED EXCERPT~
I have become what I was born to kill.
I am tainted.
The blood that flows through my veins is no longer pure and good.
I am now a vampire.
***
When I opened my eyes, I expected to see Zander hovering over me. But, he wasn’t there. What I did wake to was a burning in my throat and the overwhelming urge to quench it. The intensity of the thirst was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
I launched myself forward into a sitting position, grasping at my neck. I knew why this was happening to me. I had turned … I wanted blood.
Panic began to set in even more when I realized I wasn’t in my bed. I wasn’t even in my room. I sat in a king sized bed beneath a soft, light blue comforter. Pillows were piled high behind me and the sheets felt softer than any sheets I’d ever slept on.
Where was I?
The walls were white and fans hung down from the high vaulted ceiling. A dresser and an armoire were the only other furniture, aside from a comfortable looking chair by the window. A window which was heavily covered, I might add.
The sight of that window which blocked out the light set off an entirely new feeling. Fire traveled a spider web through my body, spreading out wider and wider until I could feel it in my fingers and toes. Unknowingly, I flexed my fingers and then clenched the comforter into both my fists. I would never see daylight again. No more sunrises or sunsets. No more swimming in the lake or playing at the falls on a hot summer day. It was the end of my human life.
I pushed the blanket aside and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My feet sunk into the plush white carpet. I wiggled my toes. It was as if every fiber of the fabric tickled against my skin. I’d never really paid attention to what carpet felt like before.
Silently, I thanked the heavens that at least I was wearing my own clothes. I had on a pair of loose black shorts and matching tank. It was nice to have one thing that was familiar since nothing in this place, so far, was mine.
Did I look different now that I was a vampire? How much of a change would there be in my appearance?
I pushed away the burning in my throat and searched the room. I found an open door on the far side of the room where white tile flooring could be seen through the opening, so I assumed it was a bathroom. The short walk felt a bit like walking on clouds. It felt like I didn’t weigh a thing.
I entered the bathroom, expecting the tile to be cool against my bare feet and was surprised when I didn’t feel any chill. It was soft and slick, but not cold. Gliding across the small room, I made my way over to the mirror above the bathroom sink.
For a miniscule second, I hesitated, maybe I didn’t want to see what I looked like. Maybe I had turned into something hideous and disgusting. The thought didn’t last long though, I was entirely too vein to not want to know.
I closed my eyes and turned toward the mirror. Here we go, I thought as I lifted my lids and peered into the glass.
The woman staring back at me was the same woman who I’d been before, only with a few minor changes. By minor, I mean not the same at all. The most obvious difference was my eyes, which used to be dark brown, but now they were red.
I snapped my eyes shut to block out the sight of myself.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM BEARYTALES
BY JENNIFER MALONE WRIGHT, WILLOW CROSS AND KB MILLER
Once upon a time, something wicked was woven. A magic formed by darkness and pain, a magic that only the victim of a broken heart could have created.
This story—like any other—has a beginning, a place where the heart now broken once held love. It begins with Goldalynn.
Goldalynn was a true beauty, born in the south along the banks of the bayou. Her mother brought her into the world in the midst of a hurricane, screaming to those assisting her that she could feel the magic of her child within her, and she would live to be more powerful than the winds which destroyed the world around them.
The dark haired child was named after her grandmother who had flowing locks of golden hair before she became old and frail with age. The grandmother may not have passed on her golden hair, but what she did pass on could not be seen from the outside…only those born of Goldalynn’s bloodline knew of their special gift.
The women of their family were powerful; they carried a magic within them that the family had promised to nurture. They swore by the blood to keep their magic safe…and secret.
“Goldalynn, harm none. This is the one rule you must remember when you use your power,” her mother told her one day when she was just a young girl. She sat at the large cutting board island in the center of the sunroom where they grew their own herbs. She watched her mother select ingredients from the shelves of colorful plants and add them to the large bowl she held in one hand.
“I didn’t mean to do it.” Goldalynn frowned as she thought of the poor heron out in the swamp. “I just wanted to touch it,” she tried to explain further. When she had tried to approach the heron, it spread its wings wide in attempt to escape her, a human. But, she had wanted to feel its feathers beneath her fingers so desperately. The next thing she knew, the heron was screeching in pain as it’s blue and gray feathers pulled from its body.
Before the feathers reached her waiting hands, fear wrapped around her like a blanket of darkness and she turned, running back home as fast as her small feet would take her.
Her mother turned to face her. “Which is precisely the reason that we shall work harder for you to control what is within you. Accidents happen, but with time these mishaps will be but a memory.”
After the heron, Goldalynn practiced magic, but only within her home and in order to control it. She longed to be normal, to be without magic that could hurt and kill.
“Do you like being a witch?” she’d asked her aunt one muggy summer day.
Her aunt had paused in her knitting and raised an eyebrow at her niece’s question. “I don’t like the word witch, it insinuates something evil.”
“Well, what are we then?”
“We are people, Goldalynn, just like anyone else.” With that, her aunt let the topic fade and went back to her knitting.
Now, every story has many elements and Goldalynn is merely a portion of what brings this story full circle. She lived on the banks of the bayou on a plantation with a house the size of a castle, which had been in their family since Louisiana first settled around two hundred years ago. The southern mansion—complete with balconies and wraparound porch—always housed the women of their family, as it was rare for any man to survive long enough with a woman from Goldalynn’s bloodline. No one has ever figured out why the men who loved them always ended up dead.
However, these women had beauty which the opposite sex were undeniably drawn to and they always ended up falling in love, only to have their men meet an unfortunate demise.
Goldalynn was no exception.
As a child she would run the grounds of the plantation, crossing the small forest of cypress and oak trees, trying to get a peek at the large white house which happened to be their closest neighbors. She would watch the workmen outside tending to the animals and building fences or small buildings. Somet
hing drew her to the big, beautiful house next door, and it wasn’t long before she found out what that special thing was.
The small forest of trees provided shade, but did not protect her against the sweltering heat. Goldalynn had brought her little wicker basket filled with snacks and two of her dolls into the trees with her. She fully intended on having a picnic party with her inanimate friends, since she didn’t have any real ones. But, something interfered that day that would change her life forever.
“Would you like more tea?” She offered her little teapot to the doll who sat propped up with a little plastic tea cup on its lap. “No?” She set the toy pot down onto the blanket beside her basket. “I suppose you’re right, the sandwiches were quite filling.”
Suddenly, a slight snapping sound echoed through the trees. Goldalynn hopped to her feet, tumbling her teacup and sandwich to the ground. Thinking it was perhaps a gator or some other swamp creature her mother had warned her about, she silently began to back away from her picnic blanket with the intention of running home as quickly as possible.
Another snap echoed through the silence of the trees, and then a footstep. She knew it was a footstep because the leaves made the same crunching sound as they did beneath her shoes as she walked. She may have been only ten years old, but she knew without a doubt it was a person who made that noise “Who’s there?” she called out.
No one answered. It was silent again except for the light breeze that rustled the branches of the tree tops. “I know someone is there?” When she still did not receive an answer, she bent down and picked up a large stick that had fallen from one of the trees. Her body shook with fear and beads of sweat slid down her face, but she gripped the stick with both hands and charged forward.
“Arrrggghhh!” she screamed with all her might, pummeling forward over the fallen sticks and branches of the forest floor with the stick held out in front of her, ready to strike.
Movement streaked across her vision then veered back, coming straight toward her. She swung the stick with all her might, and it connected. A loud grunt and a very shocked, “Owww!”erupted from her victim. Still clutching the stick, Goldalynn staggered backward.
Gathering her balance, she glanced down at the stick in her hand and saw that what had once been a bare, brittle piece of wood, was now a thriving branch, complete with lush green leaves that had sprouted from the broken nubs.
Forcing back a screech and the urge to throw the magic sodden branch to the ground, she held onto it so she could move forward and get a better look at what she had hit.
Her victim was a golden haired boy, whose face now had blood splattered across his cheeks, mingling with the freckles that graced his pale skin.
She dropped the branch and her hands went to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Cautiously, she stepped forward. “What are you doing out here?”
His hands covered his mouth and nose so he couldn’t answer her, but his blue eyes followed her every move.
“Who are you?” Goldalynn demanded.
With his hands still covering his mouth and nose, his response was muffled. “My name is William. I just moved in with my aunt and uncle.” He pointed in the direction of the big white house.
Goldalynn pulled a white linen handkerchief from her picnic basket and offered it to him. Keeping his eyes on her, he accepted the handkerchief and held it to his nose.
“I’m sorry about your nose.” She extended her hand. “I’m Goldalynn.”
He tilted his head and considered her words for a moment, then reached out and took her hand in his. “Well, I’d better get back home for lunch.” He started backing away from her. “And, thanks for the handkerchief, Goldie.”
That was the first moment that changed her life forever.
For many years, Goldalynn and William were best friends. The two children were inseparable and spent every single moment they could with each other. As time passed their bodies began to change and so did their emotions.
Goldalynn grew into a beautiful young woman who preferred the library over cheerleading. She attended the high school in their small town, only because she had pleaded with her mother to let her go so that she could be around William. Through history, the children in their family were homeschooled in order for them to learn the magical aspects of life as well as the curriculum they would learn in public school.
William was a young man who was desired by most of the teenage girls in their small town, but he had eyes only for Goldalynn. He began working at the local market that was owned by his family. Actually, they owned many of the local businesses, but William preferred the market where he could talk to the townspeople whom he so loved.
Goldalynn hated his job immensely because it took his time away from her. William consoled her by telling her he had to work if they wanted any kind of future together.
Speaking of their future together, the engagement was announced at a large picnic by the water with both of their families present. William’s family was ecstatic, having always known that Goldalynn would be the woman that their young William would choose to spend his life with. But, Goldalynn’s family on the other hand, were not quite so happy about the engagement.
“It’s a bad idea,” Goldalynn’s mother told her one day while they walked in the gardens harvesting the vegetables and herbs. “None of the men we have loved live very long. I just don’t want you to be disappointed when it happens to you.” She dumped a bunch of lettuce into the basket Goldalynn held.
“It won’t happen to us, Mother. I am sure of it.” Goldalynn tried to sound enthusiastic, but she had been witness to conversation on this topic by the women in her family since she was born.
Her mother shook her head in frustration and went to work cutting the zucchini loose from their vines. “No one is an exception. Don’t you think all of us have thought the very same thing? We were all in love once, we all wanted to think that we would be the ones whose love would be strong enough to…” She trailed off, unable to finish.
Goldalynn did believe that the love she and William had was stronger than any other in their family and that it would overcome the impending death which loomed over them.
“Goldalynn.” Her mother stood and glared down at her as she set the zucchini into the basket. “You do realize that marrying that boy is basically giving him a death sentence. If you do it, he will die, and it will be your fault.”
“I’m marrying him, Mother.” She simply could not comprehend why her mother refused to see that her situation was different than the others. Being caught up in her own love story, it had escaped Goldalynn’s mind that her mother understood how she felt more than she would ever know.
“Fine, marry him. But, you can’t say we didn’t warn you.”
Time passed with William working and Goldalynn making wedding preparations. It wasn’t to be a large wedding, but a simple ceremony for both their families and close friends. After what seemed like forever to Goldalynn, the day of the wedding finally arrived.
Outside the family home, rented white chairs had been set up with gold ribbons draped between them, separating them into two sections on the large expanse of lawn. The chairs faced a beautiful arbor with white roses and more gold ribbon had been woven between the carved swirls of wood. Beyond the arbor, the bayou waters lined with cypress and draping Spanish moss created a serene backdrop, an ambience Goldalynn loved.
Her dress was white, a symbol of her virginity and a stark contrast against her black hair. She spun in front of the full-length mirror, letting the full white skirt fan out around her. Catching her footing, she ran her fingertips across the corset part of the dress, admiring the perfection of the gold trim around the white satin. The dress dated all the way back to the 17th century. It had been her mothers and her grandmothers, and her great grandmothers and many more before them. Her aunt had done some alterations, removing the long sleeves and replacing them with cap sleeves. The tiny rhinestones glittering across her bust had been an addition as well.
&n
bsp; Her mother had spent hour’s intricately braiding miniature white roses into her hair, of which the top half was up and the bottom half she wore loose and flowing down to her waist. Behind her, her mother smiled, tears glinting at the corners of her eyes. “You look just like a fairy tale princess.” She wiped away a tear and fiddled with a few strands of Goldalynn’s hair that had gone astray.
Goldalynn turned to apply a quick kiss to her mother’s cheek. “Mother. Please, don’t cry for me,” she whispered.
Goldalynn’s mother tilted her head and admired her daughter again, knowing full well she could not tell her daughter that those were not only tears of joy, but also tears of sadness for the impending despair her daughter would soon face. However, if she chose to marry the boy, then she deserved the most happiness she could have until the terrible day arrived when she would lose him.
“It’s time,” she told her daughter as the music began, signaling the bride’s entrance. She clasped hands with Goldalynn and they marched forward so she could deliver her daughter into the arms of her soon-to-be husband.
When the time came to exchange rings, William produced a simple band of gold and held it up so that the sunlight glinted off of it. With happiness shining just as brightly in his eyes, he leaned forward and whispered. “This ring was my great grandmother’s and grandmother’s. My grandmother gave this to me before she passed away and told me to give it to you when we married. Supposedly, it is made from melded fairy dust.” He grinned and slipped it onto her ring finger.
She held her hand out, examining the ring, and giggled. “William, you know fairies don’t exist.”
“If it was possible for a woman as beautiful and amazing as you to agree to marry someone like me, then anything is possible, my love.”
Innocence and Evil (The Arcadia Falls Chronicles #6) Page 9